Dude in Distress

by Helena Hunting

  While I don’t intend to jump Lawson’s bones, I would also not be opposed to it. He’s a good-looking guy, and despite the slew of very unfortunate events and his complete lack of car knowledge, I’ve enjoyed his company. We could definitely have some fun this weekend, which isn’t something I’ve allowed myself to do in a long time.

  I use the blow dryer in lieu of a towel to dry off, change into a comfy sundress, and give Lawson a turn in the shower.

  “I’m just going to check out the vending machine. Any requests?” I ask as I run my brush through my wet hair.

  “I’ll eat just about anything, except nuts. I don’t trust those from a vending machine.” He shrugs out of his shirt and drapes it over the brown velour chair in the corner of the room, giving me an excellent view of his defined chest and rippling abs. His cargo shorts hang low on his hips, displaying that delicious V of muscle.

  “No nuts. Got it,” I echo, then bite my tongue before I say something about how much I love nuts.

  On my way to the vending machine, I take a detour to the pool, just to check it out. A sad, half-deflated beach ball floats in the green tinged water, and about half a tree’s worth of leaves covers the bottom. There’s also a film of algae lining the edge.

  I call Cosy as I head toward the vending machines.

  “Why are you still in Utah?”

  Sometimes this app thing where we can see exactly where each other is at any given time is as much a curse as a blessing. “We ran into a bit of a hiccup.”

  “What kind of hiccup? Wait a second, are you at a motel?”

  “I blew a tire and all the garages are closed until morning. I don’t want to drive another four hours on a spare and risk bending the frame on Ellie, so Lawson and I are staying here for the night.” I always name my cars.

  “At a motel? With Lawson?”

  “Yeah.” I approach the ancient vending machine and rummage around in my purse for coins. The selection is unsurprisingly weak.

  “In separate rooms?”

  “They only had one left.”

  “You’re in the middle of buttfuck nowhere. How are all the rooms rented out?” Her disbelief is not unwarranted.

  “There’s a wedding.” I start shoving quarters into the slot. “Look, I need whatever intel you have on this Lawson guy. He seems nice, but you know how shitty my man radar is.”

  “Already looked into him. Based on Griffin’s reports, he’s a good guy. Kinda awkward, used to be a bit of a playboy, but seems to have settled down in the past couple of years. Might have asked about you at a party a while back. I don’t know if he’s relationship material, but if you’re having fun with him I can give you my sisterly approval and a green light to enjoy yourself should you end up spooning tonight.”

  Griffin is a very stand-up guy, so his opinion is generally something I trust. “Okay. Thanks. Sister approval noted and appreciated. I’ll call you in the morning when we’re back on the road.”

  “Sounds good. Have fun and stay safe.” She makes a kissy sound. “Love you!”

  I end the call feeling good about my judgment as far as Lawson is concerned and go back to assessing my snack options. Funyuns and Cool Ranch Doritos, while delicious, are not ideal when sleeping in close quarters with a man I don’t know that well, but find attractive. Also, Cosy’s green light factors in at least a little.

  I settle on a bag of plain chips and another of pretzels, even though I don’t particularly love them either. I check the dates to make sure they’re not expired before I also buy a package of Nibs and another of sour gummies. I only have enough quarters left for one bottle of Mountain Dew, but we can share.

  “I come bearing gifts!” I shout as I shoulder my way through the door. And freeze because standing in the middle of the room with one foot in a pair of fresh cargo shorts is Lawson.

  And he’s commando.

  Free balling.

  Also, he has a peen piercing.

  Speed Dating

  Lawson

  I CHECKED TO make sure Nevah was still hitting up the vending machine before I stepped out of the bathroom. That was less than thirty seconds ago. I’m currently balanced on one leg, trying to get my foot in my shorts, but I’m wearing my flip-flops and I’m still damp post-shower, so the fabric is sticking to my skin, making the task virtually impossible.

  This wouldn’t be so bad if I was, say, wearing boxer briefs. But I’m not. Because I don’t own underwear. I find them constrictive and an unnecessary expense. The only time I like my balls cupped is when a nice soft hand is fondling them. Preferably not my own.

  “Holy wow.” Nevah is standing in the middle of the open doorway carrying an armload of snacks. A bottle of soda slips from her hold, bounces off her right foot, and lands on the nasty brown carpet with a thud.

  “Ow! Fuck!” Nevah drops the rest of the stuff, grabs her toe, and hops around on one foot, face contorted in a mask of pain.

  A family of four just happens to pass by our open door at exactly the same time. The mom gasps and covers her children’s eyes while her own lock on my swinging junk. One of them is a teenage girl who tries to pry her mom’s hand away.

  I trip over my shorts and face-plant into the carpet.

  “Sorry, so sorry!” Nevah shouts and slams the door in their shocked faces.

  She slides down the wall, and a loud pop startles us both. Pretzels shoot across the carpet like shrapnel, and I get beaned in the forehead with a rogue piece. My cheek is currently pressed against the disgusting carpet that smells like a combination of filth and green olive juice. My legs are tangled up in my shorts, so I’m forced to flip over onto my back.

  “Oh God! Get up, get up!” Nevah hobble rushes over and slides her arms under mine. I probably weigh a good sixty pounds more than she does, so I’m impressed that she manages to pull me a couple of feet toward the tent; however, the carpet has the texture of sandpaper and is highly unpleasant.

  “Ahh! Stop! My balls are dragging on the carpet!” I shout. I also think I’m getting rug burn on my ass.

  “Sorry! I was trying to lift you, but you’re a hell of a lot heavier than I expected.” She jumps back as I spring to my feet, still swinging free, bare ass on display. I yank my shorts up the rest of the way, making sure I’m tucked in before I zip up the fly and fasten the button.

  Her hand is in front of her face, but there’s a narrow gap between two fingers and her eyes are trained on my crotch.

  “What the hell just happened?”

  “Probably a lot of things I could go to prison for in this town.”

  Nevah snorts a laugh, which, of course, means I start laughing, too. She grabs my shoulders and sags against me, laughing so hard tears stream down her face.

  “You just flashed an entire family.”

  “I thought I had enough time to get dressed before you got back.”

  She sucks in a ragged breath and tips her head up, eyes wide and suddenly serious. “Your dick is pierced.”

  The entire front of her body is pressed against the entire front of mine. It’s giving my decorated dick a whole lot of ideas. I nod. “It is.”

  “So is your tongue.” Her eyes are hooded and her lips part, her own tongue peeking out.

  “You’re correct.” I sweep the steel ball across my bottom lip.

  She tracks the movement and mutters something that sounds like good idea before she takes a step back. Her hands slide down my shoulders and over my chest. “And your nipple.” She tugs on the steel ring with a devilish smirk.

  “You’re observant, aren’t you?”

  “And you’re a masochist.” She waggles her eyebrows. “Put a shirt on. I’m starving and I need a stiff drink.”

  I exhale a slow breath, willing my body to calm down. I probably should’ve taken care of business in the shower, but it felt skeezy to jerk off when the woman who saved my ass more than once today, who I also have to sleep beside tonight, might be on the other side of the door.

  I grab a shirt from my
bag and pull it over my head, then twist my hair up, fastening it in a topknot while Nevah cleans up the exploded bag of pretzels.

  “We’re down a snack.” She tosses it into the garbage beside the mini fridge.

  “I don’t like pretzels anyway.”

  “Me either! They’re like the rejects of the snack world. Literally the last thing I would ever consider, but options were limited and I didn’t feel like Cool Ranch Dorito breath was a good plan for tent sleeping.”

  “Very considerate of you.” I reach for the doorknob, but she grabs my arm.

  “Wait, let’s make sure that family isn’t still out there.” She cracks the door and pokes her head out. Once she’s sure the coast is clear, we lock up and head down the street in the direction of the bar. It’s after ten and I’m starving.

  The bar is exactly what I’d expect based on our accommodations: Small, dank, and lacking in ambiance. However, it’s the only place open and we’re both hungry, so it’ll have to do. We order water and beer while we browse the menu. “I basically want to eat everything.”

  “Same, girl, same.” I pat my growling belly.

  We order greasy food and are on our second beer by the time the food arrives.

  “So tell me about this.” Nevah swipes her fry through her ketchup and motions toward me before biting the end off.

  “Tell you about what?”

  She props her chin on her fist. “You. The packaging. I’m trying to figure you out.”

  “The packaging?”

  “You look and dress like a surfer dude.”

  “If I lived in California, I probably would be a surfer dude.”

  “But you live in Long Island?”

  “The Hamptons.”

  “Oooh, fancy.”

  “My brother and I manage a bunch of properties out there. You should come visit sometime if you’re ever out that way. It’s great there in the summer.”

  “Is this you saying you want to see me again after this weekend?” She gives me the side-eye and brings her bottle to her lips, a slight smile turning up the corners of her mouth.

  “Yeah, I guess I am. I mean, we’ll be sleeping together on a set of sheets covered in questionably impossible sex positions and you’ve already seen the goods—” I motion below the bar. “—seems like maybe we’re dating already.”

  Nevah throws her head back and laughs. “You’re ridiculous.”

  “But am I?” I turn so I’m facing her. “Usually a first date is coffee, or something short, right? An hour, two tops? Then you decide if you want to give the person a second shot. The next date is maybe dinner? A movie, which you can’t even talk through. We’ve been together for twelve solid hours and we’ve already dealt with a broken-down car, a flat tire, and a motel that’s grosser than a high school locker room. That’s like what? At least three or four dates worth of time together?”

  Nevah cocks a brow. “Those would be pretty fail dates.”

  “Obviously, actual dates with me would not include broken-down cars, flat tires, and crappy motels. What I’m saying is, we already know we’re compatible, especially under pressure. Neither of us lost our cool today, other than you kicking the flat, which I think was completely warranted because that tire was an asshole. I don’t know about you, but despite this day being a complete clusterfuck, I’ve had a lot of fun and it’s been because I’ve had great company. Doesn’t hurt that you’re a smokeshow either.”

  “I’ve had a lot of fun today, too.” She bites her lip and ducks her head. “It’s kind of crazy that we even managed to cross paths, don’t you think?”

  I’ve thought the same thing a hundred times. “Seems a lot like fate to me.”

  “Do you really believe that?” Nevah regards me thoughtfully.

  “Yeah, sure. Things always happen for a reason. Just like we’ve been at the same events before, in the same room, feet away from each other, but we’ve never been introduced, probably because the timing wasn’t right. In fact, I know that’s the case because you were at the Mills hospital fundraiser last year and I asked my sister about you.”

  “What did you want to know about me?”

  “If you were available. I don’t know if you’re aware, but you’re stunning. Anyway, my sister told me that I wasn’t allowed to talk to you unless I was sober, which I was not at the time.”

  “That was probably some sage advice.”

  “I agree.” I clink my beer against hers. “To second chances at making first impressions.”

  We finish our beers, pay the tab, and head back to the motel. Nevah is flirty, arm threaded through mine, cheek resting on my biceps as we navigate the uneven sidewalk. We make a stop at the 7-Eleven to load up on better snacks, including a six-pack of those powdered donuts that are equally horrible and delicious.

  The motel is quiet when we return. Despite the rough start to our day, and the bad luck, this has probably been the most fun I’ve had with a member of the opposite sex in a long time. Generally, my relationships don’t have much in the way of longevity, so the fact that I’ve spent an entire day with the same woman, not having sex, says a lot. And possibly not a lot of good things.

  After we dump our treats onto the table, we stand in the middle of the room and stare at the tent for several seconds. The chill, easy vibe is suddenly rife with new tension.

  “Uh, I’m going to get ready for bed.” Nevah grabs her bag and disappears into the bathroom.

  I really don’t know what to expect tonight.

  I should probably not expect sex. At all. Even though I’m pretty sure I would like the sex. Okay, I’m more than pretty sure. My dick, which has been in a state of semi-arousal all day long, would definitely like the sex.

  I figure under these circumstances, it’s probably best for me to keep my hands to myself unless otherwise requested. Especially since Nevah is basically my only way to Colorado at the moment. I also genuinely like her and I’d prefer not to mess this up.

  Wanna Snuggle?

  Nevah

  I PLANT MY fists on the vanity and stare at my reflection in the mirror. I’ve been in here for seven minutes. I put the timer on as soon as I locked the door so I wouldn’t take too long because I’m one-hundred percent psyching myself up to unlock that door and face the hot guy who is either throwing out amazing lines or who really does seem to think fate is the reason our paths crossed today.

  It’s hard to argue with the whole destiny thing, considering he’s right—we’ve been at the same events before. I remember seeing him and wondering what the heck a surfer was doing at a gala. I also remember thinking he was hot, and not at all my type.

  Except now that I’ve gotten to know him, I think he actually might be my type. And not at all like the jerks I typically end up with.

  In which case I want to look like I care, but not too much. I adjust the top of my sleep tank, rinse once more with mouthwash, debate whether or not I want to toss a coin to help me decide whether or not I’m going to make the first move, and then I remember I used all my coins in the vending machine.

  I smooth my hair one last time before I open the bathroom door. “Bathroom’s all yours.”

  Lawson is standing by the table organizing our 7-Eleven purchases. He glances my way and his gaze drops from my face to my feet and then slowly comes back up. “Yes, it is.” He gives his head a shake. “I mean, great. Thanks.”

  Shit, this is awkward.

  Once he’s in the bathroom, I head for the tent and get into bed so we can avoid more weirdness. I lie there for a while—it seems like an eternity—before the bathroom door creaks open, followed by the thwap-swoosh of Lawson’s flip-flops as he approaches the tent.

  The room goes mostly dark, aside from the dim glow coming from the direction of the bathroom. The flap opens and Lawson ducks inside. For a moment I consider pretending I’m asleep, but decide that’s ridiculous. No one falls asleep that fast.

  Lawson lies on his back and pulls the sheets all the way up to his chin. His arms g
o to his sides over the covers. “G’night,” he says to the tent ceiling.

  “Uh, g’night?”

  I glance at him out of the corner of my eye—I’m also lying on my back, like a corpse. His eyes are closed. Maybe he doesn’t want to make the first move? Or he doesn’t want to assume I’m interested? I figured our discussion at the bar should be a fairly solid indicator that I am. I don’t think his eyes have been closed for more than thirty seconds and I swear a low level snore comes out of him.

  I hold my breath, sure I must be hearing things. “Lawson?”

  I get nothing.

  I prop myself up on my arm, the air mattress dipping, and peer at his face. His hair is still pulled up in a topknot. There’s not much in the way of light filtering in, but I can clearly see that his eyes are closed. Another slightly louder snore escapes.

  I poke him on the shoulder. “Hey.”

  His eyes pop open and he grins.

  “You jerk! I thought you’d seriously fallen asleep in less than a minute! By your account it’s supposed to be our fourth freaking date and you haven’t even kissed me goodnight!”

  His eyes search my face and his smile softens. “We’ve kind of jumped a whole bunch of dating hurdles in one day. I didn’t want to make any assumptions. Plus, if you think I’m a shitty kisser, I’m going to have to sleep on that gross mattress with the polyester comforter.” He thumbs in the direction of the bed.

  I nod slowly, considering that. “Hmm. I guess you better make it a good one then.”

  He blows out a breath. “Okay. Game on, Nevah.” His expression turns serious as he cups my cheek in his warm hand and tugs, ever so gently, pulling me in closer. His full lips brush softly over mine. He tilts his head to the right, thumb sliding along the edge of my jaw. “With or without tongue?” he asks.

  “Date four should definitely include tongue, and it should be long. My toes should curl and I’ll want to invite you up to my apartment.”